-V" 



^ 207 



MEMOIR 



COL. THOMAS KNOWLTON, 



OF ASHFORO. CONNP^CTICUT 



I ({KPinXTKD KKO.M Till'. NKM' EXGLAXi) UlSTOiaOAL AM) (i KXKAI.( m ; k'AL KKC ISI'lli;. 

j, FOlt .TAXUAUY, 1861. 



BY ASHBEL WOODWARD, M. D. 

i. Of IKANKLIS. CMNNKCTUin-. 



BOSTON: 

I'JilNTKI) BV llEKRY W. DUTTON ,^ SON. 
N'os. OO Axii il'i ^\'ASI[I^•OTl)^• Strekt. 

18 6 1. 







^ 

^ 

^ 

M 



1UJ| 



MEMOIE 



COL. THOMAS KNOWLTON, 



OF ASHFORD, CONNECTICUT. 



REPRINTED FROM THE NEW ENGLAND HISTORICAL AND GENEALOGICAL REGISTER, 
FOR JANUARY, 1861. 



BY ASHBEL WOODWARD, M. D. 

OF FRANKLIN, CONNECTICUT. 



BOSTON: 

PRINTED BY HENRY W. BUTTON & SON, 
Nos. 90 AND 92 Washington Street. 

1861. 






fifnxxQti 



ymk.tiis%.Y, 



MEMOIR. 



The reputation men leave behind tliem depends materially upon cir- 
cumstances unconnected with their services or worth. Where individuals 
have acted an important part in moulding the history of their time, pos- 
terity, by oft-repeated siftings and reviews, will in the end generally mete 
out to each the proper measure of credit. 

Still, not a few brave men who sacrificed fortune and life to secure our 
national independence, — men held in high estimation by the most honored 
of their cotemporaries, — have been allowed a very inadequate place in 
the national records and the national remembrance. Some are forgotten 
because their acts of heroism were performed in the shadows cast by 
greater names. Others achieved too much to pass into oblivion, yet fall far 
short of receiving their deserts through the modesty or indifference of those 
to whom their reputation was more immediately intrusted. This, we think, 
is true of Col. Knowlton. We believe that the position has not been 
awarded to him in the history of the colonial and revolutionary periods, to 
which his sagacity and valor, his patriotism and distinguished public ser- 
vices entitle him. 

Col. Thomas Knowlton was born in the town of West Boxford, Mass., 
November, 1740. The church records of that place show that he was 
baptized on the thirtieth day of November, and as the ceremony of bap- 
tism was then almost invariably performed on the eighth day after birth, we 
may infer that he was born on the twenty-second of that month. The 
Knowlton family were of English origin, and among the earliest settlers 
of Massachusetts. During the boyhood of Thomas, his father William 
Knowlton removed from Boxford to the town of Ashford, in the prov- 
ince of Connecticut, where he purchased a farm of four hundred acres. 

Not long after the commencement of the " Last French War," in 
1755, Knowlton began his military career by enlisting as a private in the 
company commanded by Capt. Durkee. He continued in the army about 
four years, and was successively promoted to the rank of sergeant, ensign, 
and lieutenant, holding the last office in the campaign of 1760, which was 
signalized by the capture of Canada from the French. 

He was present at the battle of Wood Creek, fought in the month of 
August, 1758. It was here that Major Putnam, having been captured by 
an Indian warrior, was tied to a tree, where, during a considerable part of 



4 Col. Thomas Knowlton. 

the fight, he was exposed to the fire of hoth friends and foes. Tlie cir- 
cumstances of the contest relating more particularly to young Knowlton, 
as narrated by his son, are these : A scouting party, embracing with 
others the company of Capt. Durkee, had been sent out from the English 
army to intercept the French and Indian stragglers who were thought to 
be rancring the forests in the vicinity. While thus engaged they found at 
Wood Creek an encampment bearing marks of recent occupation. The 
discovery of kettles and various other articles secreted among the neighbor- 
ino- boo-s and brush, induced the belief that the enemy designed to return. 
Accordingly the Provincials took possession of the grounds and prepared 
to receive them. But after the lapse of a day or two, a party of English, 
while ascending the creek on a fishing excursion, encountered a couple 
of French boats descending. On espying the character of the new 
comers, the French turning about rowed rapidly up the stream. Feeling 
that it would be idle to delay any longer in the hope of surprising the 
enemy, now that their location was known, the Provincials abandoned 
this position of security to seek the foe. The attempt was full of peril, 
for the route lay through a heavy forest rendered almost impassable by 
the dense growth of brakes and underwood. While cautiously advancing 
in single file, a storm of bullets was suddenly showered upon them by an 
ambuscade of French and Indians. So thick was the undergrowth that 
not a foe was visible, the musketry and the smoke wreaths alone reveal- 
ing their deadly lurking places. The English sought shelter behind the 
trunks of trees, fighting in a great measure independently of each other. 
At an early stage of the conflict the attention of young Knowlton was 
attracted by a quivering among the brakes, and a moment after he saw 
an Indian crawling stealthily on hands and knees into the path just formed 
by the footsteps of the English. He immediately shot the Indian, and 
having reloaded his musket, sprang forward to secure his scalp for a 
trophy. Just as he reached the victim ten or twelve Indians jumped up 
from the grass on all sides of him, each beckoning to the lad to come to 
his arms as a prisoner. Not at all intimidated by this closing circle of 
savage foes, the boy-soldier, with a boldness and dexterity that for a mo- 
ment paralyzed their energies, shot down the nearest warrior, and, bound- 
ing over his prostrate body, regained his comrades in safety, though pur- 
sued by a shower of balls. Meanwhile the action had become general. 
Both parties fought desperately, and success alternated from side lo side. 
At length the troops had become so scattered and commingled among the 
brakes that all regularity was lost, each one managing and fighting for 
himself. At this stage of the conflict, Knowlton, on entering a small 
open space, saw a Frenchman enter on the opposite side. Each snapped 
his musket, and both muskets missed fire. As neither of them had bay- 
onets, the Frenchman endeavored to draw a dirk, but before he could 
succeed, Knowlton had clasped him around the waist and now c.\erted all 



Col. Thomas Knowlton. 5 

his strength to throw him. But the endurance of the large and powerful 
man proved an overmatch for the immature though active boy. Knowhon 
was thrown, but at this juncture an American soldier fortunately entered 
the opening when their antagonist begged for quarters. Having re-primed 
his gun Knowlton and his companion began to lead away the prisoner, 
when he sprang from their hands and attempted to escape, but ere he had 
run many steps his flight was stopped forever by a ball from the musket 
of Knowlton. 

The two associates in this adventure, from whom the rest had become 
separated by retreat, now attempted to rejoin the main body of troops. 
After running in different directions, and being shot at several times, they 
gained the rear of the English. During the engagement Knowlton's coat 
was perforated on the shoulder by a ball, but he escaped unharmed. For 
the valor here exhibited he was promoted to a sergeancy, and before the 
close of the war was raised to the rank of lieutenant. 

VVhen we reflect that such heroism and judgment were displayed by a 
youth of less than eighteen years, we are not surprised to find him, at the 
maturer age of thirty-six, accounted the first oflicer of his grade in the 
American army. 

He was present at the capture of Ticonderoga and performed other 
services in the campaigns of 1759-60 which brought the French and 
Indian war to a close. 

Upon the commencement of hostilities between Spain and England in 
1762, Knowlton sailed with the Provincials under Gen. Lyman to join 
Lord Albemarle for the reduction of Havana. After a long and brave 
defence the Spanish surrendered. But the climate proved more disas- 
trous to the Americans and English than the batteries of the enemy. 
When the place capitulated, August 13th, disease had already made 
frightful ravages among our men. Comparatively a small part surviving 
the hazards of the expedition were spared to return to their homes. On 
the return passage Knowlton was challenged to fight a duel by a British 
officer, whom he had rebuked for some offence perpetrated while in 
liquor. But on maturer reflection, ehher becoming convinced of his error 
or fearful of encountering so cool and determined an adversary, the 
Englishman withdrew the challenge and apologized for his haste. 

Col. Knowlton had married, April 5, 1759, Miss Anna, daughter of 
Sampson Keyes, of Ashford. Subsequently to the general pacification 
which succeeded the fall of Havana, he followed the quiet pursuits of 
agriculture at home in Ashford. There he continued to reside in the 
bosom of an affectionate family till the growing alienation between the 
Colonies and the Mother Country blazed into deadly hostility at Lexing- 
ton and Concord. Dm-ing this interval of repose he sustained among his 
fellow-townsmen a high character for honesty and discretion. The de- 
moralizing influences of camp life had passed over his head as harm- 



6 Col. Thomas KnowUon. 

lessly as the bullets of the Indian foe. Although not a professor of piety 
he was a punctual attendant at church, and was ever ready to lend a help- 
ing hand to encourage enterprises of benevolence and humanily. A gener- 
ous nature and expansive sympathies raising him above the narrow big- 
otry of sects, prompted him to take a bold though modest stand against 
the religious intolerance at that time in many parts of New England un- 
fortunately too rife. A well authenticated incident, which happened a few 
years before the Revolution, illustrates our point. As he was riding 
on one occasion past the Presbyterian church, he observed a crowd 
gathered around the whipping-post, planted, according to the harsh 
usages of the day, in the vicinity. On inquiry he ascertained that a cul- 
prit was to be flogged for non-attendance at church and the non-payment 
of tithes. When the sentence was read preparatory to the infliction of the 
punishment, he noticed the omission of the usual clause requiring the 
stripes to be applied to the bare back. Taking advantage of the inad- 
vertence of the scribe, he threw his own overcoat over the shoulders of 
the victim whereby the torture was greatly mitigated. 

At the age of thirty-three he was appointed one of the selectmen of the 
town. This was spoken of at the time as quite a wonder, for silvery hair 
and ripe experience were then thought indispensable to the proper dis- 
charge of the duties of that august office. Young America has seriously 
encroached upon the notions entertained by our forefathers. 

When the tidings of the conflict at Lexington reached Ashford, Knowl- 
ton held no military command. But a spirit like his required no urging 
to a scene of action where the cause of liberty had been baptized in the 
blood of his countrymen. Leaving his farm-business just as it was, and 
bidding adieu to his family, he hurried with gun and well filled powder 
horn to the rendezvous of the Ashford company. Had he been desirous 
of an excuse for remaining at home, the circumstances of his situation 
would have aflTorded several. His wife, whose love for her husband ex- 
ceeded her devotion to the cause of independence, exhausted all the art 
and ingenuity of womanly persuasion to detain him from the war. A 
numerous family of young and dependent children appealed in mute elo- 
quence to the affections of a father's heart. The military affairs of the 
township were entirely in the hands of others, while an important civil 
office seemingly demanded his attention at home. None of these con- 
siderations, however, weighed a straw when balanced in the scale against 
the momentous interests now to be decided by the arbitrament of the 
sword. 

The company formed at Ashford, being destitute of a captain, pro- 
ceeded to fill the vacancy by ballot. Knowlton had joined as a private and 
offered no claim -for the situation. Yet so great was the reputation for 
bravery, prudence, and sagacity, that had followed him home from the 
French war, that he was unanimously selected for the post. This com- 



Col. Thomas Knowlton. 7 

pany was the first which entered Massachusetts from a sister colony. How 
honorable and useful a part it acted there will appear presently. 

Knowlton was the favorite officer of Putnam, and such confidence did 
the veteran general repose in the accuracy of his judgment, that he inva- 
riably consulted him in matters of importance. A short time before the 
Provincials took possession of Bunker's Hill, Putnam came to his quar- 
ters and in a private interview developed the plan of seizing and for- 
tifying that height. Knowlton wholly disapproved of the project, insisting 
that it would probably prove fatal to the American troops engaged in it ; 
for the British, by landing at Charlestown Neck under the protection of 
the floating batteries and ships of war, could cut off" from the hill all sup- 
plies of provisions and ammunition, besides rendering retreat extremely 
hazardous if not impossible. " Still," he continued, " if you are deter- 
mined to go upon the hill I shall accompany you with my men and exert 
myself to the uttermost." This conversation was overheard by Edward 
Keyes, of Ashford, a private in the company, who stood sentry at the 
door and listened with the intense curiosity of a raw young soldier of sev- 
enteen. He narrated the incident to the informant of the writer. As 
affairs turned, the recklessness of Lord Howe and his contempt for the 
American army, saved them in a measure from the catastrophe which 
Capt. Knowlton and other prudent officers had anticipated. 

After many debates the scheme of Gen. Putnam prevailed, and it was 
determined to hazard the fortunes of an engagement on the Charlestown 
peninsula. On the night of June 16th, a body of about one thousand 
men under the command of Col. Prescott, following the glimmer of dark 
lanterns, crossed the neck. Here they overtook several wagon loads of 
intrenching tools, the sight of which first apprized the inferior officers 
and privates of the design of their darksome march. A controversy 
now arose as to the proper hill to be fortified. Bunker Hill, the only one 
on the peninsula then designated by a distinctive name, was explicitly 
mentioned in the order. But the remoteness of that elevation from Bos- 
ton, induced them, in the face of the instructions from the committee of 
safety, to move farther on to the eminence afterwards known as Breed's 
Hill, though not so high as the former by fifty feet. Owing to this dis- 
pute it was nearly midnight before the sward was broken. Capt. Knowl- 
ton commanded a fatigue party of about two hundred Connecticut men.* 
These were the first to strike the spade, and toiled unceasingly till the grey 
light of morning revealed to the astonished Britons the ominous defences 
reared, while the familiar cry, " AlPs well," had lulled them to sleep. 
So vigorously had the work been pushed that by break of day a strong 
redoubt had been thrown up, flanked on the left by a breastwork extend- 

* The Bunker's Hill Roll of the Ashford company contains ninety-six names inclu- 
sive of officers. 



8 Col. Thomas Knowlton. 

ing down the hill in a northerly direction, and terminating a ^e.\v 
rods south of an impassable slough. The rear of the breastwork was 
connected with the redoubt by a narrow sally-port. Beyond the 
slough, the tongue of land about two hundred and fifty yards in width, 
lying on the southern side of the Mystic River, was undefended. The 
configuration of the peninsula rendered the occupation of this unguarded 
point by the American troops indispensable to their success and even 
their safety. The enemy by marching along the bank of the stream could 
gain the rear of the redoubt and slay or capture its defenders at a blow. 
Accordingly, while the British, after landing at Moreton's Point, were 
partaking of refreshments and waiting for reinforcements, Capt. Knowl- 
ton, with the Connecticut troops under his command, was ordered to take 
possession of this pass. Here he adopted a novel mode of fortification, 
the efficacy of which far exceeded the anticipations of its projector. A 
post and rail fence already stretched across the field from the river to the 
road. The soldiers, taking rails from other fences in the neighborhood, 
built a second fence parallel to the first, and filled the intervening space 
with freshly mown hay. 

It may seem strange to some that the command at a point of such vital 
importance should be intrusted to Capt. Knowlton, when there were other 
officers on the hill of superior rank, who might feel aggrieved at such an 
assignment of this post of honor as well as danger. The reason is to be 
found in the thorough confidence which Gen. Putnam reposed in him. 
Years before they had often marched and fought side by side. On long 
expeditions through the wilderness, and on the battle-field, Putnam had 
learned to appreciate the qualities of the youthful hero. After the lapse 
of a decade they again stood together upon the verge of a bloody conflict. 
The strip of hard upland bordering on the Mystic, the key to the Ameri- 
can works on the peninsula, must be guarded at all hazards. Gen. Put- 
nam, ignoring considerations of titular pre-eminence, insisted that Capt. 
Knowlton was just the man for the place, and it was accordingly given 
to him. 

Col. Stark, coming upon the ground at a later hour, also took post behind 
the rail fence, at the extremity towards the redoubt ; the three command- 
ers, Prescott, Stark, and Knowlton, in their several positions, fighting the 
battle independently of each other. 

The British were drawn up in two wings, the left under Gen. Pigot 
moving with steady step against the redoubt, and the right led by Lord 
Howe in percbn, against the rail fence. Lord Howe looked with con- 
tempt both upon the breastwork of hay and rails, and the backwoodsmen 
behind it. He fully expected that its defenders would fly in dismay at 
the first shot, leavi^ng him free to attack the main body in flank, while 
Gen. Pigot carried the works in front. But he sadly mistook the recep- 
tion that awaited him. Reserving their fire till the enemy came within 



Col. Thomas Knowlton. 9 

six or eight rods, the Provincials poured upon them incessant volleys. 
Capt. Knowlton, divested of coat, vi^alked along the line in front of his 
men, encouraging them both by example and by words. He repeatedly 
loaded and discharged with deadly aim his own faithful musket, till it was 
struck by a cannon ball and knocked into the form of a semicircle. In 
this shape it was carried from the ground, and afterwards remained many 
years in possession of the family, but now is unfortunately lost. Not- 
withstanding the great superiority of the British right wing, in numbers, 
discipline, and accoutrements, they proved a most unequal match for the 
Americans opposed to them. The latter resting their guns upon the rails 
took deliberate aim. The enemy fell by scores at every volley till hun- 
dreds lay in heaps upon the earth. Yet as huge gaps were opened others 
stepped bravely in to fill the vacant places and share the same fate. Very 
many of the companies lost from three-fourths to nine-tenths of their men, 
and of several scarcely half a dozen escaped. While the assailants were 
thus slaughtered, the defenders of the rampart remained unharmed, 
partly because the artillery of Lord Howe proved useless, being stopped 
by a marsh, and partly because the closely packed grass was impervious 
to musket balls. Besides, as the British took no aim, their shot mostly 
passed over the heads of the Americans, as shown by the fact that the 
upper limbs and foliage of several trees standing a little in the rear were 
completely riddled, while the trunks and lower limbs were hardly grazed. 
At length Lord Howe, with the remnant of the column that shorly before 
had moved proudly on the field, as if to certain victory, was compelled 
to retreat. 

The enemy had been repulsed at every point ; yet, nothing daunted. 
Lord Howe marshaled the troops for a fresh attack. A second time his 
division marched calmly and boldly as before, over the bodies of fallen 
comrades, against the rail fence. Restraining with difficulty the impetu- 
osity inspired by success, the Americans impatiently withheld their fire 
till the space between the hostile armies was narrowed to six rods. Sud- 
denly the crash of musketry resounded along the lines, and the messen- 
gers of death leaped from hundreds of muzzles at once. The slaughter 
of officers was frightful. Lord Howe, seemingly possessed of a charmed 
life, was three times left alone, so great was the destruction around him. 
Human fortitude could not long face a murderous fire like this. Despite 
the exertions of Howe, who sought the thickest danger, endeavoring by 
gestures and words to rekindle hope in the hearts of the despairing, the 
shattered columns reeled, broke, and fled. 

Gen. Clinton, having watched from Copp's Hill the progress of the 
battle, had discovered the vulnerable point of the American lines. Stung 
to madness by the carnage of the very flower of the army, he crossed 
over to the peninsula, and as a volunteer joined the dejected troops. Two 
disastrous repulses had convinced the British generals that the rail fence 



10 Col. Thomas KnowUon. 

was impregnable. The third time, therefore, a different plan of attack 
was adopted. Instead of storming the redoubt in front, they determined 
to take it in flank through the open space between the breastwork and 
fence. While Howe with a part of his wing made a feint of repeating 
his attack upon the fortified fence, another part brought several cannon 
to enfilade the breastwork on the left of the redoubt. As the troops be- 
hind it were protected only in front, they were compelled to seek refuge 
in the enclosure. As the British advanced with fixed bayonets the Ameri- 
cans greeted them with a final volley, for their ammunition was now ex- 
hausted. While the soldiers of Howe were pouring into the redoubt on 
the northern side, Clinton and Pigot had come up and were assailing it 
on the south and east. For a short time the Americans contended against 
the bayonets of the foe with the stocks of their muskets and whatever 
missiles they could seize. Prescott was soon forced to order a retreat. 

While the main body were making their escape, Knowlton and his 
compeers resolutely maintained their position behind the fence, thus frus- 
trating Lord Howe's design of cutting off the retreat of the Americans. 
As the division of Prescott passed the fortified fence which was one hun- 
dred and ninety yards in the rear of the breastwork that formed a con- 
tinuation of the redoubt. Col. Stark's regiment, whose ammunition was also 
expended, joined in with it. Knowlton now ordered the four companies 
under his command to withdraw from the post which they had defended 
so successfully. Fortunately they had double the number of cartridges 
of the other troops, having brought them from Connecticut. Retiring 
slowly, and making the most effective use of their extra ammunition, they 
formed the rear-guard of the Americans in their retreat. Without doubt 
the obstinate bravery of Knowlton's division, rendered effective, as it was, 
by a plentiful supply of powder and shot, saved many who but for their 
interposition never could have escaped from the peninsula. 

As the Ashford company, after leaving the rail-fence, was passing near 
a field-piece which had been loaded by the Americans, and then aban- 
doned in that condition, Robert Hale, one of its members, rushed from 
the ranks, and seizing a brand discharged it. The diversified fragments 
of metal which had been substituted for a ball, mowed a wide swath 
through the British ranks. In the momentary confusion which ensued, 
Hale slipped away from his pijrilous position and regained his comrades 
in safety. 

Thus it wilL be seen that Knowlton's company was the first to enter 
Massachusetts from a sister colony ; that the four companies placed for 
the time under his command were the only troops from abroad to go 
upon Breed's Hill on the night of the 17th ; that after toiling for hours 
in throwing up the redoubt, they removed to a new position where they 
shared the privilege of twice repulsing Lord Howe ; and finally that they 
were the last to leave the scene of conflict. Notwithstanding all this 



Col. Thomas Knowlton. 11 

exposure but three are marked as killed on the roll of the Ashford 
company.* 

For his gallantry in this engagement, Knowlton was promoted by Con- 
gress to the rank of Major, and was thenceforward generally esteemed 
the first officer of his grade in the army. A gentleman of Boston, like- 
wise, out of admiration for his conduct, presented to him a gold laced 
hat, an elegant sash, and gold breast-plate. The breast-plate is still in 
possession of the family. 

Col. Burr, a keen judge of men and brilliant officer, as all must ac- 
knowledge, notwithstanding the odium cast upon him by the later transac- 
tions of his life, became acquainted with Knowlton and was singularly 
captivated both by his military talent, and the qualities of his open and 
fearless nature. Not long before his death, in speaking of the friend of 
his youth, Burr said, " I had a full account of the battle from Knowlton's 
own lips, and believe if the chief command had been entrusted to him, 
the issue would have proved more fortunate." When the objection was 
raised that he ought not to be placed before Prescott and Stark, Burr ob- 
served, that " such was not his intention, — that an able and efficient ^en- 
eral commander was wanted, as they, like Knowlton, had particular posts 
to defend ; and great fault rests somewhere for not bringing to them 
proper support." Alluding to the rapidity of his promotion, he remarked, 
" It was impossible to promote such a man too rapidly." 

During the subsequent winter, while the Americans were beleaguering 
Boston, Major Knowlton was stationed with Gen. Putnam at Cambridge. 
With by far the greater number, the time passed wearily, because the 
monotony of camp-life was seldom relieved by stirring incidents. The 
soldiers were discontented, the officers gloomy, and even Congress exhib- 
ited many signs of anxious foreboding. At this time the daring and 
successful exploit of a few Americans contributed to revive the drooping 
hopes of the army. A deserter from the enemy communicated the infor- 
mation that several English officers were quartered in the scattering 
houses at Charlestown that had escaped the conflagration of June 17th. 
Gen. Washington, having conferred with Putnam, directed Maj. Knowlton 
to cross over to the peninsula, whh the deserter, and from personal in- 

* In the acconnt here given of the part taken by Col. Knowlton in the battle of 
Bunker's Hill, we have placed great reliance upon the facts collected by the late Wm. 
W. Marcy, Esq. Mr. Marcy possessed qualities of mind which eminently fitted him 
for historical investigations. Having married a grand-daughter of Col. Knowlton, he 
took a deep interest in the events of his life, and was untiring in the inquiries he made 
among the survivors of the Ashford Company who fought on the Hill, to ascertain mi- 
nutely the part the Colonel there acted. 

We would also here acknowledge our indebtedness to the manuscripts intrusted to 
the writer, by Capt. Miner Knowlton of the U. S. Army, who has been assiduous in 
collecting every known fact in regard to the life and services of his distinguished 
relative. 



12 Col. Thomas Knowlton. 

spection ascertain the truthfulness of the statement. The command was 
executed the next night. On the second evening (February 8th,) be- 
tween the hours of eight and nine, Knowlton proceeded from Cobble 
Hill with one hundred men from the first brigade, and a like number from 
Frye's brigade, being determined, if possible, to burn the houses and cap- 
ture the officers. No one can appreciate the delicacy or danger of the 
undertaking unless acquainted with the situation of the peninsula at the 
time. Bunker's Hill was garrisoned by the main force under Gen. 
Howe, while Charlestown Neck Was strongly guarded. The only way ot 
access was by the narrow mill-dam extending from east to west across 
the bay, and so low that the top was frequently buried beneath the tides. 
Yet over this slender pathway the Americans marched in single file, with 
Knowlton at the head, toward the gaping jaws of the British lion. On 
reaching the guard-house, the sentinel advanced with presented bayonet. 
Knowlton, still leading the way, thrust it aside with the left hand and run 
him through the body with the right so suddenly that not the least alarm 
was given. The inmates were surprised and captured. When the men 
had been so arranged as to secure a safe retreat, they began to fire the 
buildings. As the flames darted upward, the enemy on the hill, imagin- 
ing that a formidable army was about to attack them, opened a heavy 
cannonade from the fort. Knowlton's party persevered' till seventeen 
scattered houses were in a blaze, he himself remaining behind the rest to 
start afresh one of the fires which they in their hurry had left. The 
whole number then returned by the way they came, without the injury of 
a man, although thundered upon by the artillery on the hill. 

Lieut. Trafton, a member of the party, afterwards observed in conver- 
sation, " It was considered at the time an operation of great hazard, espe- 
cially in securing a retreat ; but we had entire confidence in the officer 
commanding, and that he could effiact it if any officer in the army could." 

The garrison on Bunker Hill were not the only frightened ones. A 
theatre had been fitted up in the city, early in the season, which was much 
frequented by officers and tories. On the evening in question, a farce, 
written by Gen. Burgoyne, and entitled " The Blockade of Boston," was 
to be performed as an after-piece. The curtain had just arisen, and the 
character representing Washington, equipped with a mammoth wig and 
sword, and followed by a ragged orderly sergeant armed with a rusty 
musket seven or eight feet long, were about to commence the entertain- 
ment of the crowded assembly at the expense of the besiegers, when a 
genuine Serjeant hurried upon the stage, announcing that " the Yankees 
were attacking Bunker's Hill." This was thought to be a part of the act- 
ing, till Gen. Howe gave the order, " Officers, to your alarm posts !" 
Great confusion followed. A rush was made for the door, the ladies 
shrieking, and the men, whose enthusiasm in many instances had been 
wrought up to a high point by frequent potations from the punch bowl, 



Col. Thomas Knowlton. 13 

muttering their aspirations for the Yankees, in language too sulphureous 
to bear repetition by the sober. 

An order, now extant, signed by Gen. Washington and dated at Head- 
Quarters, Cambridge, Feb. 28, 1776, directing tlie Paymaster-General to 
pay to Maj. Knowlton so many pounds, lawful money, to purchase arms 
for the use of the twentieth regiment under his command, shows that 
ahhough holding only the commission of Major, he was in actual com- 
mand of a regiment. 

After the British evacuated Boston, Knowlton proceeded to join the 
army then engaged in the defence of New York. On the way he made 
a short visit to his family in Ashford, and while there paid oiT his troops 
in scrip. A regiment called the rangers was now raised by the selection 
of the choicest men from the Connecticut troops. Knowlton was com- 
missioned Lt. Colonel, and the command of this regiment, which had been 
appointed expressly for desperate and delicate services, was given to 
him. 

Before the battle of Long Island, Gen. Putnam entered zealously into 
a scheme for the destruction of the British fleet in the harbor by means of 
fire-ships. The time for the execution of the project had been fixed ; 
simultaneously Knowlton and I\Iercer were to make a descent upon 
Staten Island. A succession of unpropitious events thwarted the design 
of burning the ships; but the failure of that part of the enterprise did 
not deter Knowlton and Mercer from attempting to accomplish theirs. 
Twice they made preparations for crossing the straits, but were pre- 
vented, once by tempestuous weather, and once by deficiency of boats. 

At the battle of Long Island the rangers were sent to reinforce Lord 
Stirling. All at once the firing in that quarter ceased. Convinced in his 
own mind that Stirling had surrendered, Knowlton instantly ordered a 
retreat into the lines, which was effected with great celerity, and just in 
time to save them from a large body of British Light Horse, who a mo- 
ment after galloped to the field. Thus the accurate judgment and quick 
decision of the Colonel rescued the regiment from a sword wielded that 
day with pitiless ferocity. 

Subsequently to this disastrous battle, while the Americans were occu- 
pying the peninsula of New York, and the British the city of Brooklyn, 
Gen. Washington was extremely anxious to learn the strength and con- 
templated movements of the enemy. He accordingly summoned a 
council of officers in order that they might deliberate together on a mat- 
ter of so great importance. They thought it necessary to send a man 
into the heart of the British camp, provided any one of proper qualifica- 
tions could be found, who was willing to go. Col. Knowlton was charged 
with the superintendence of the enterprise. When he proposed the plan 
to his officers, Nathan Hale, of South Coventry, Conn., one of the cap- 
tains in Knowlton's regiment, was the only one ready to volunteer his ser- 



14 Col. Thomas Knowlton. 

vices. The brilliant and versatile talents of Hale led his colonel to 
recommend him to Washington, as a person eminently fitted for the peri- 
lous task. The offer was accepted by the commander-in-chief. The 
skill, the fortitude, and the heroic self-devotion exhibited by the youthful 
martyr, are familiar to all. 

We now approach the closing scene in the career of the brave 
Knowlton. The calamities on Long Island, the shameful flight at Kip's 
Bay, the series of misfortunes about New York, that for several months 
had uninterruptedly pursued the American flag, and, moreover, the 
wretched condition of the troops, produced an all-pervading gloom 
throughout the camp and the country. A large and thoroughly disciplined 
army, commanded by experienced officers, amply furnished with the 
munitions of war, and flushed with successive victories, threatened to ex- 
terminate the cause of independence. Had not the love of liberty been 
a deathless flame in the hearts of our forefathers, tliey must in this hour 
of culminating disasters have abandoned hostilities in despair. But an 
unconquerable spirit animated them. From the furnace of affliction 
they came forth, scorched and bleeding it is true, yet purified, and ready 
to dare more and suffer more for what they had already dared and suf- 
fered so much. 

The main body of our army was now occupying the fortified camp 
extending along the upper part of New York Island. Col. Knowlton, ever 
on the alert, had been sent with a detachment of one hundred and fifty 
men, to watch the movements of the enemy. Keeping the corps con- 
cealed, he directed two of the soldiers to reconnoitre the lines. They 
were ordered to proceed stealthily and without noise so as to avoid giving 
the slightest alarm. On approaching undiscovered within fair gun-shot 
of the enemy, yielding to a mad desire they fired upon them, and then 
hurried back to the main body. For disobedience to orders they were 
severely reprimanded by the colonel. Close at the heels of the scouts 
followed six hundred British. Knowlton arranged the detachment behind 
a field-fence, but finding that the enemy, four times superior in number, 
were bent on gaining the rear and cutting off retreat, he withdrew to a 
piece of woods, where he fought with great resolution till overpowered 
and driven back by numerical superiority. In the mean time a reinforce- 
ment was sent from the American camp, under Major Leitch, with orders 
to join Knowlton and gain the rear of the British, while a feigned attack 
was made upon tliem in front. As the troops advanced for the false 
attack, the enemy ran down the hill to gain a more advantageous position. 
While these manoeuvres were executed in front, the main body having 
made a circuit to strike the rear, being ignorant of the change in the 
disposition of the forces, came upon the enemy's flank. A brisk con- 
test ensued, in which both sides were reinforced and fought with great 
determination, till the enemy were driven from tlie woods into the plain 



Col. Thomas Knoivltofi. 15 

and pursued for some distance. In the hottest of the engagement Maj, 
Leitch was borne from the field mortally wounded. Shortly after, Col. 
Knowlton, while bravely leading the attack, was shot through the head, 
and survived only an hour. His eldest son, a lad who had not yet seen his 
sixteenth birth-day, was in the same battle and fired several rounds be- 
fore he heard the sad intelligence. When word was brought that his 
father was dying, he hurried to his side. The hero, gasping in the death 
struggle, clasped his hand for a final adieu, and thus addressed him. 
" You see, my son, I am mortally wounded ; you can do me no good ; go, 
fight for your country." Do the pages of history furnish an instance of 
sublimer patriotism ? As the agonies of dissolution were racking the 
body of a soldier thus snatched from life in the midst of the glow, and 
pomp, and hope of early manhood, solicitude for the country for whose 
deliverance he had fought so often and so valiantly, excluded all nar- 
rower or more personal thoughts. Col. E,eed, an eye witness of the 
scene, says, " All his inquiry was whether we had driven in the enemy." 

In the general orders of the next day, Gen. Washington says, " The 
gallant and brave Col. Knowlton, who would have been a7i honor to any 
country^ having fallen yesterday while gloriously fighting, Capt. Brown is 
to take command of the party lately led by Col. Knowlton." 

When the news of the loss of her favorite son reached Ashford, deep 
and heart-felt sorrow pervaded the town. Every house became an habi- 
tation of mourning not less than if one of its own inmates, having gone 
to the wars, was to return no more forever. Even the man who was 
supposed to be his only enemy, wept like a child. 

The writer of this sketch, whose boyhood was passed in Ashford, well 
remembers the enthusiasm and affection with which the surviving cotem- 
poraries of CoL Knowlton always spoke of him. 

In person he was six feet high, erect and elegant in figure, and formed 
more for activity than strength. He had light complexion, dark hair, and 
eyes of deep spiritual beauty. His literary education was confined to 
the narrow routine of studies then taught in the common schools. Yet 
the possession of an intellect naturally bright, and quick to pi'ofit by the 
experiences and associations of military life, caused his companionship to 
be sought by the most cultivated. He was courteous and affable in man- 
ners, and wholly free from ostentation and egotism. Ever willing to 
bestow on others the praise due to their merit, he received the applause 
due to himself without a murmur of dissent. Calm and collected in 
battle, and, if necessity required, ready to lead where any could be found 
to follow — he knew no fear of danger. The favorite of superior officers, 
the idol of his soldiers and fellow-townsmen, he fell universally lamented. 
Half a century afterwards, a grandson of Col. Knowlton, travelling in 
New Hampshire, casually met a Revolutionary soldier, who, in rehearsing 
the story of his campaigns, mentioned the engagement at Harlem Heights 



16 Col. Thomas Knowlton. 

where he fought under Knowlton. On learning that the young man was 
a descendant of his former commander, the old gentleman pressed him 
with invitations to pass the night at his house, nor would he listen to any 
excuse. The confidence that he had reposed in Knowlton, when they 
were companions in arms, was seemingly unlimited. He remarked, that 
" the colonel was the mildest and most agreeable man he ever knew — 
that nothing of a rough or harsh nature ever passed his lips — that he was 
universally respected by those under his command as well as those asso- 
ciated with him." Such were the sentiments with regard to Col. Knowl- 
ton invariably entertained by those who knew him. 

And what has been done by our country to honor the name of the man 
who, at the first note of warning, drew the sword for liberty, never laying 
it aside till his arm was cold in death ? Have a grateful people, living 
in the midst of the prosperity purchased at so great cost of revolutionary 
suffering and revolutionary blood, reared for him any monument to tell 
the world that her defenders are embalmed in perpetual remembrance > 
Has the government of the United States whose faithful soldier he was, 
or the city of New York whose soil he died to defend, or the Common- 
. wealth of Connecticut that points with pride to his name as one of her 
brightest jewels, ever offered this slight tribute of filial duty.? To all 
such inquiries we must answer in the negative. The only monument to 
his memory is a very plain cenotaph, planted by the hand of affection in 
the cemetery at Ashford, and cut with this inscription : " This monument 
is erected in memory of Col. Thomas Knowlton and his v/ife. That 
brave colonel, in defence of his country, fell in battle, Sep. 16th 1776, 
at Harlem Heights, Island of N. York, M 36 years." 

Col. Knowlton was buried with military honors near the road leading 
from Kingsbridge to the city. 




p^ 



KEY TO THE BATTLE OF BUNKER'S HILL. 

No. 1. General Israel Putnam was born in Salem, Massachusetts, 7th January, 1718 ; 
he was married at an early age, and removed to Pomfret, Connecticut. In 1755 he 
was appointed captain of a provincial regiment, and served for some time on the fron- 
tiers and in Canada, and rose to the rank of lieutenant-colonel. On the breaking out 
of the revolutionary war he repaired immediately to Boston, and was appointed a 
major-general. He was engaged in the battle of Bunker's Hill, and held an important 
command till December, 1779, when he had a paralytic attack, from the effects of 
which he suffered till the 29th of May, 1790, when he died at Brooklyn, Connecticut. 
No. 2. Lieutenant Colonel 3Ioses Parker, an American officer. 

No. .3. Samuel M'Clintock, D. D., was born in Massachusetts, May 1, 1732; he 
graduated in 1751 at the college in New Jersey; Nov. .3, 1756, he settled as a minister 
in Greenland, New Hampshire, and died 27th April, 1804. 
No. 4. Major Willard Moore. 

No. 5. Major Thomas Knowlton, of the Connecticut troops under Putnam ; killed in 
1776 in battle. 

No. 6. Major Andrew M'Clcry: killed by a cannon shot after the retreat. 
No. 7. Colonel William Prescott was born at Groton, Massachusetts, in 1726 ; he was 
a lieutenant in the provincial forces at the capture of Cape Breton in 1758, and greatly 
distinguished himself on that occasion. He had the chief command at the battle of 
Bunker's Hill, and was among the last to leave the entrenchments. He resigned his 
commission in 1777, but was" present as a volunteer at the capture of Burgoyne by 
Gates, in that year. He died Oct. 13, 1795. 

No. 8. Geii'eral Joseph Warren was born in Roxbury, Massachusetts, June 11, 1741 ; 
he received a liberal education, and in a few years became an eminent physician in Bos- 
ton. He was very active in organizing resistance to British oppression, and a prominent 
member of the secret committee raised for that purpose. A few days iiefore the battle 
of Bunker's Hill he was appointed a major-general, but served as a volunteer and was 
killed in the battle. 

No. 9. General Sir William Howe, who succeeded Gage in the command of the Brit- 
ish forces in America, arrived at Boston in May, 1775. He commanded at the Battle 
of Bunker's Hill. In September, 1776, he captured New York. On the 27th Septem- 
ber, 1777, he took possession of Philadelphia, and on the 4th of October defeated the 
Americans at Germantown. In May, 1778, he was succeeded by Clinton. He died in 
1814. 

No. 10. General Sir Henri/ Clinton. He succeeded General Howe as commander-in- 
chief of the British forces in America, and returned to England in 1782. In 1795 he 
was governor of Gibraltar, and died Dec. 23, 1795. 

No. 11. Major John Small, a British officer, and a friend of General Putnam, who 
saved the Major's life in this battle. 

No. 12. Colonel James Ahercrombie, a British officer; he was killed in the battle. 
No. 13. Major John Pitcairn was the British officer who shed the first blood at Lex- 
ington. He was killed at the battle of Bunker's Hill by a negro soldier, as he mounted 
the parapet during the third attack. Major of marines. 

No. 14. Lieutenant Pitcairn, an English officer, (son to the above.) 
No. 15. Lieutenant Francis Lord liawdon, born December, 1754, was made adjutant- 
general of the British army in America, 1778 ; in 1780 commanded one wing of Corn- 
wallis's army at the battle of Camden; in 1793 was advanced to the rank of major-gen- 
eral ; in 1812 was appointed governor-general of British India, and died 28th Novem- 
ber, 1825. 

No. 16. Colonel Thomas Gardner, a native of Brookline, Mass. He was mortally 
wounded while leading his men to reinforce the Americans. 

No. 17. Lieutenant Grosvenor, accompanied by his faithful servant, who seems to 
look defiance to the whole British army, and is prepared and determined to be the mes- 
senger of death to any one who may attempt to hurt his young master, who is already 
wounded in the sword arm and breast. 

General (then Colonel) Stark, though not designated in the plate, was in the battle; 
and at the head of his regiment from New Hampshire, twice compelled the enemy to 
retreat with dreadful loss. General Stark afterwards distinguished himself at the battles 
of Trenton and Bennington, and at the surrender of Burgoyne. He was a native of 
Londonderry, New Hampshire. He died May 8, 1822, in the 94th year of his age. 

Captain ('afterwards General) Henry Knox, at that time a bookseller in Boston, and 
commander of a company of grenadiers, was also in the battle as a volunteer. He 
died in Thomaston, Maine, Oct. 25, 1806, at the age of 56. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESc: 

iiillf 

011 801 091 7 1 



